


when you’re home

by silverstaineddreams



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Comma Abuse, F/F, M/M, also i'm sorry in advance, everyone but caleb is latinx bc i say so, its actually not my fault at all it's lily's smh, yes i wrote an in the heights au for turn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-04 19:51:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6673399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverstaineddreams/pseuds/silverstaineddreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>with patience and faith we remain unafraid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The sun was always low in the sky, at this time. Other people, those bastards who woke up early out of _pleasure_ instead of _business,_ seemed to appreciate it. If he had bothered to pay attention, any fool could have noticed the advantages that the morning gave them; less heat, less people.

Abraham Woodhull was too goddamn tired to acknowledge any of these things. 

Every day, at six thirty in the a.m, he rubbed his eyes, swallowed down his coffee, and padded over to the bodega, the one his parents had left him. The only one in the entirety of Washington Heights, actually. Which was a great thing, in fact, especially when the entire barrio was filled with hungry people, and his shop was top-notch at least seventy percent of the time.

Still, sometimes the light would hit the fire escape perfectly, or the silence of the morning would be pierced by someone’s yawn, and Abe would look up just in time to see the whole town waking up; the world seemed to be so bright, so serene, and a bit of melancholia would find its way into his already airborne heart. One day he was leaving, and it was times like these that made him question that decision, because it meant that he would _never come back._

But then someone would burst in, permanent frown etched onto their faces, demanding _un poquito de café,_ and Abe would hum to himself, outwardly cool, but internally counting the days until he’d find himself on a beautiful beach, far away from this mess.

As the first few customers rolled in, Abe sighed, adjusting his beanie and opening the fridge. His nose crinkled, the smell of dairy gone bad hitting him full-force. He shut the door, and whirled around, mouth pressed into a thin line. He should have known. It was summertime; aka hell. The heat seemed to be like an angry god, grabbing everybody by the lapels and smacking them in the face. Nobody was safe.

(Caleb called him dramatic. Sally called him lame.)

“Abuelo,” he sighed, eyes meeting Samuel Townsend’s. The man gave him a warm smile and a knowing glance, as he looked from Abe’s disconcerted expression to the fridge behind him. “It broke. I’ve got café, but no con leche.”

Samuel laughed, shaking his head and reaching into one of the cupboards. Abe watched as the elderly man pulled out a small can of condensed milk.

“It’s an old recipe,” he explained as he handed it to Abe, who took it gladly. “Use one ounce. _Te quedará exquisito.”_

“Nice!” Abe praised, straightening his back and grinning. Samuel placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Paciencia y fe.”

With that, the man took off, the light making his gray hair seem almost ethereal. Samuel wasn’t really his grandfather, not by a long shot, but he had always been there, which is more than Abraham could ever say for his parents. In a way, Sam was everybody’s abuelo- he took every ragtag kid in, helped raised them, helped teach them, even if they were already more educated than he was ever allowed to be.

Abe was grateful. He had needed that.

(Some would argue that he still did.)

“Good morning, Mister Tallmadge.” He greeted, shooting both of the new customers a weary grin. “Y déjeme decirle, señora, I almost didn’t recognize you- morning glow and all.”

Susannah Tallmadge laughed, amicably, folding her arms and leaning against the counter.

“She’s always glowing, to me.” Nathaniel said, attempting to catch his wife's attention, but the woman merely rolled her eyes fondly.

“Don’t mind him; he’s hardly been behaving himself since last night. All excited for Ben’s return to the barrio.” She explained, and Abe perked up- Ben Tallmadge, one of his best friends, had been off studying at Yale. One good thing about the summer, was that it was a part of his imminent return.

“Oh, _I’m_ the excited one?” Nathaniel scoffed, shaking his head. “You’ve been cooking since last week!”

Susie opted to ignore him, turning to Abraham instead.

“You should come over for dinner, tonight. It’s a welcome back party of sorts.” She told him, and the excitement that she felt was almost tangible. “As my husband tried to point out, there’s plenty to eat.”

“I’ll be there.” Abraham promised, and the prospect of seeing his old friend again made his footsteps feel a little bit lighter. Nathaniel and Susie, waving goodbye and bickering the whole time, pushed through the crowd that had begun to accumulate inside the small room. 

As quickly as they had left, two others took their place.

“So then Yesenia struts in, mascara smeared from shouting and sobbing, and she starts pounding on the bedroom door- I swear with all the _bulla_ she was making, it’s almost like she wanted me to overhear!” Anna ranted, gesticulating wildly as Mary hung on to her every word. “ _‘Who’s in there with you, Joyce?’_ She yells, but that woman is as impatient as they come, so you can imagine what her next move was.”

“Ay dios mío.” Mary muttered, as Anna cackled.

“ _-¡precisamente!_ She grabs a bat and kicks in the door, and guess who our dear captain is with.” There’s a beat of silence, during which Abe, who was of course listening in rapt attention, leaned forward. “ _Robeson.”_

Mary and Abraham exchanged a shocked look, as Anna smirked proudly, taking a sip of the coffee that the shopkeeper had provided. 

“ _¡No me diga!”_ They both yelled, as Anna merely nodded, acting as though this weren’t one of the hottest pieces of gossip to cross the barrio.

“Hey, I take my rumors very seriously.” The brunette reminded them. “This is all fact-checked. _Todo esta verificado.”_

Mary, although still amused, was the first to recover. She stood up, downing her cup and placing the money she owed Abe on the counter, all but dragging Anna away. With an entertained chuckle, he watched them walk away, hand in hand. The ladies from the salon knew everything- it’s almost as if working there made you omniscient.

Abe, turning over the new information in his head, tried to find his way out back, but before he could get very far his feet were suddenly tangled in a loose cable extension, and he found himself nearly toppling onto an unsuspecting passerby. 

A familiar head of chestnut hair, matched with intelligent gray eyes and a shit-eating grin stood before him, as Abe glanced at the clock, exasperatedly.

“Sally. You’re late.” He pointed out, although the stern tone felt foreign on his tongue. The fifteen year old seem to notice this, as well, for she snorted, and elbowed him in the shoulder, playfully.

“Oh, c’mon. You know you love me!”

Abe, who didn’t have a clever response for that, merely placed the bag he had been carrying in the trash, turned on his heel, and walked away. He could feel Sally Townsend’s victorious grin on his back, but he chose to ignore that.

The kid hated working there, anyways. The only reason Abraham employed her was because she needed a job (or rather, her brother seemed to think she needed a job- and it’s not like Abe was about to negate Robert anything). 

She was good with the bodega, however, because every single person in the barrio adored her; she was witty and charming and ambitious, but _lazy._ Her tangents were insightful, but only the people who bothered to bring out that side of her knew that.

Either way, they were both running your average, run of the mill, mom-and-pop shop, trying to fight the heat, praying for sporadic accidents (despite the fact that they still came continuously), and all the while trying not to grow irritated by the hundreds of people who felt entitled to their drinks. 

It was an established routine, always the same every single day. Samuel was usually the first to stop by, offering helpful tips and kind anecdotes. The Tallmadges normally came a little while after that, followed by Anna and Mary (and often times Sally), and-

“You ain’t got no skills.” A voice called out, playfully, watching as Abe cleaned some donut icing off the floor. The young boy who had dropped the dessert seemed to be on the verge of tears, and Sally shook her head, passing him a brand new one with an easy smile.

“Caleb!” Abe called, wiping his hands. 

“Hey," he said, crooked grin situated on his face. “I need a-”

“Milky way?”

“Yea, and a-”

“ _Daily News?_ And a _Post?”_

“Well, obviously. Most importantly, however-”

“You need your boss’ second coffee, one cream, five sugars.” Abe finished, as he watched Sally hand him the items.

Caleb Brewster, much like Ben Tallmadge, had been his best friend since they’d both moved here in kindergarten. Him, Caleb, Ben, and Anna had had their own little group- the Culper Squad, they used to call it.

Caleb, however, was the only person in the entire barrio who wasn’t Latino- which meant his Spanish was far from perfect, and that was a bit of a problem when you worked at a taxicab station, where your job was to help drivers- some of whom were only fluent en español- out of tough situations.

(From that point of view, maybe it was a good thing that Nathaniel Tallmadge never let him take the wheel.)

“This is exhausting,” Caleb moaned, taking the newspapers and delicacies in his hands. “My boss can’t keep me on this damn back-burner.”

“Except he _can.”_ Abe pointed out, but the other man pretended not to hear him.

“I’m capable of so much; maybe I’m not fully bilingual, but the barrio understands me! I can do this shit, guys. I’ve just never been given a chance.” 

“Local area man’s aspirations are just low enough for life to slide under it.” Sally stated, and Caleb glared at her, in an annoyed fashion. 

“Hey, kid- _talk less.”_ He offered sarcastically, before turning back to Abe. “I’m a quick learner. I’m a hard worker. How come you run your own business, and I’m surviving off of Ben’s dad?”

“Because I’ve got skills.” 

“No, that’s not it.” The other two said at the exact same time. Abe rolled his eyes, leaning against the cool wall. “So, about Ben- did you hear he’s coming back today?”

“Of course _he’s_ heard, Abraham.” Sally teased, winking at Caleb. The latter shoved her, jokingly.

“My boss is his father, of course I’ve heard.” He justified, although he couldn’t quite keep the elated grin off his face. “You two going to the dinner, tonight?”

“I am,” Abe nodded. “She’s not.” 

“Let’s just say that I’m not up for watching all of you _borrachos_ 'party.’” Sally explained, in a chastising manner. 

“I heard Rob’s going.” Caleb said, with faux nonchalance. “Has he shown up yet?” 

“ _Shut up.”_ Abe responded, causing his companions to burst out laughing at his expense. 

“Aw, c’mon, don’t get so mad, Woody. We’re just teasing.” Caleb told him, the mirth on his face still very present. “You should buy him some dinner, tell him how you feel- if you aren’t scared, that is.”

“I’m definitely not scared!” Abe yelled, causing all the patrons in the shop to whip their heads towards the cacophony that they were creating. Lowering his voice, he added: “I could ask him out! I mean I won’t, but I _could.”_

“Abe, buddy,” Caleb laughed, eyes crinkled. “I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times- you ain’t got-”

“No!” They were interrupted by the sound of someone barging into the bodega- and speak of the devil and he shall appear, or some shit like that, because there stood Robert Townsend, brow furrowed and lips pursed, arguing with the person on the other side of his phone’s screen. “No, no, no, no, no!”

Caleb and Sally shared a look, both of them turning to give Abe a pointed one.

“Mr. André, I’ve already got the security deposit.” Rob clarified. “I’ve been saving for the past year.” He paused. “Yes, I know that’s not reflected in my bank statement, obviously, but I promise I have the money. I won’t let you down.”

“Here’s your chance,” Caleb muttered. “Ask him out right now.”

“We can find someplace to meet, later on. Maybe even sign that lease?” Rob added, hopefully. Caleb grabbed Abe by the lapels.

“Do _something,_ you fucking cabbage,” he hissed, shoving the short man towards the taller one.

“Hey!” Abe greeted, maybe a little too loudly (he had been pushed, after all). Behind him, Sally snickered. Robert, placing his phone back inside his pocket, folded his arms.

“You owe me a bottle of cold champagne.” He noted, and while that was an odd way to say hello, it definitely made the phone call seem less absurd; Abe and Rob’s longstanding bet was simple: whenever the latter found a way to make it out of the barrio, then the former would owe him a drink. If, however, in a year’s time, both of them were still here- well, then Robert was the one who bought the alcohol.

(Either way, Abe got a date. Despite the other’s protests, it _counted.)_

Funny enough, a year’s time expired in a few days.

“Are you moving?” Abe asked, the idea leaving him uneasy.

“All I need’s some credit check, and you’ll see me on that elevated train.” Rob assured him, the hints of a smile forming on his lips.

“Well, then, your coffee’s free.” 

Caleb coughed, loudly, a signal for Abe that could be loosely translated to _literally make your goddamn move._ Sally clicked her tongue, which was the universal symbol for _he ain’t gonna do shit,_ and frankly, Abe was offended. 

They weren’t wrong, but he was _offended._

“Thanks,” Rob replied curtly, taking the cup from Sally, and turning back to Abe. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times, before settling on, “I’ll, uh, see you later,” before walking out. Abe thought this to be one of their most affectionate conversation, in seven years of knowing each other.

Caleb breathed through his nose, shaking his head as Abe sat back down at the table with them. Sally gave him a disappointed look, accenting it with a soft punch to the shoulder.

“He’s moving, Abe!” She chided. “You don’t have all the time in the world!”

“I know!” _I know._ He brushed the hair out of his face, swallowing heavily. “Look, I’m gonna do it.”

“I’ll see it when I believe it.” Caleb stated, grabbing his things and heading for the door. “You look exhausted, Woody. Don’t let life slide.”

Abe never heeded his friend's warnings, and whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, time would tell. 

By then, the bodega was always significantly more empty than it was during their version of ‘rush hour.’ It was calmer, and it signaled the quick approach of the end of the day. He’d close up shop in a couple of hours, and then he’d go over to the Tallmadges for dinner, and everything would be fun, for a moment. Claro, after that, the whole cycle would start all over again. 

And despite his complaints, Abraham really did take comfort in the familiarity of it all. What should have been days filled with monotony, were actually always fresh and exciting, albeit repetitive. That was okay. They all got by. They learned how to.

The heat was overbearing, the prices were climbing daily- but where else could they possibly go?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: listens to a musical abt latinx immigrants  
> me: yes this is abt revolutionary spies
> 
> aaaa thank u so much for reading this far!! i would translate all the spanish words, but it's literally one am n how hard is it to look up google translate i mean seriously
> 
> n also thanks to washingtonspies/schuylerelizas on tumblr for literally not letting me forget this ever, n also for being rlly awesome n talking to me abt this trash like u are Very Cool
> 
> also ciphereye was super supportive ?? thank u what the heck ur Rad <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Benjamin Tallmadge, the barrio’s best!”

Abe wiped the sweat off his brow, squinting at the scene before him; Samuel and Sally were conversing amicably, their exuberant natures making it easy to see the familial resemblance between them.

“I thought I told you to fix the fridge, kid.” Abe reminded her, although a smile tugged on the corner of his lips.

“I _tried.”_ She justified, jutting out her chin. “It was blowing fuses, sparks flying everywhere- I ain’t getting near that shit again.”

“You know what we should do?” Samuel interjected, hand on his chin. “Send her to la Republica Dominicana this summer. Let her do some actual work. Get some dirt on those converse.”

Sally gave her father a horrified look, taking a step back and putting up her hands dramatically.

“I’m not wasting a cent on her, are you kidding?” Abe replied, rolling his eyes. “And I’m especially not sending _her_ to D.R while I’m stuck here.”

Before either Townsend could input their stance on the subject, their attentions were captured by the sound of shuffled footsteps. All three of them turned to face one Ben Tallmadge, fresh from New Haven, looking twice as tired than when he had left.

Samuel was the first to stand up, wrapping his arms around the slightly taller boy. Abe frowned, noticing the way Ben was wringing his hands and shifting his eyes around the street.

“This place hasn’t changed at all, has it?” He noted, with a relieved smile.

“Would you take it any other way?” Abe retorted, standing up to greet his friend.

“That’s a good point.” Ben laughed, sliding onto one of the chairs. “Have you seen my parents?”

“You just missed ‘em.” Sally said, moving closer to where the older boy sat. Ben glanced down at her, grinning. “Recognize the face?”

“Hey, Sal.” The words were punctuated by him ruffling her hair. “Look who’s a grown woman.”

“Getting taller every minute- I’ll be your height in, say, three years.” Sally noted. “You know how old I’ll be then? Eighteen.”

Ben chuckled, while Samuel and Abe shared a bemused look; the younger girl’s crush on the college student was more prominent than ever. Poor kid probably didn’t even realize he was gay as hell.

“Yeah, okay, scram.” Abe said, rolling his eyes, and grabbing Ben’s sleeve. “I’ve got to make sure Mister Yale here still remembers his way around el barrio.”

“I’ll make you both a sandwich!” Samuel cut in, before adding, at Sally’s indignant cough,“I’ll make you _all_ a sandwich.”

“Ay, abuelo, let me help you,” Ben offered, placing a steady hand on the older man’s shoulders. “With all those recipes you left me, I’m sure I could pull off some _pan con queso.”_

“You needed those recipes. I had to make sure that you remembered the taste of home.” Sam told him, placing a wrinkled hand on Ben’s cheek. “No dejes que la gran ciudad te cambie, mijo.”

“Never.” Ben promised, before turning to Abe. “You go help Sally out with the fridge; I’ll meet you guys in a moment.”

+

Being back home should have felt right. And, to some extent, it _did._ Samuel’s recipes, Abe’s bodega- all of it _fit,_ but in a different way than it had before. Like pieces of a puzzle displayed across a different canvas. The barrio hadn’t changed. Had Ben?

New Haven had been exciting, and refreshing, and _real._ In Washington Heights, he’d always been the smartest one. He’d always known the answers. He’d always gotten the highest grade point average. Back home, he was unstoppable, a force to be reckoned with, ingesting more and more information, learning, growing.

In Yale, he wasn’t special. Your average run-of-the-mill scholarship kid, not the brightest, not the laziest. He wasn’t distinguishable amongst the thousands of different faces that strode through the halls, working, and partying, and taking life by the reigns.

Ben was fine with that. He’d made his peace with it.

The problem lay in the fact that his scholarship didn’t cover _all_ of his expenses. He’d known this before the semester had started, of course, and had decided on getting a job to pull his weight. It was just a number.

Growing up in one of the poorest districts in New York, he really should have known better- and, he did, he _did,_ but knowing something and acknowledging it are two very different things, and Yale was his big break, and it was so _close, he could feel it._

And he’d blown it.

One job alone didn’t help him. He got another one. He took his books to work, established a routine, pulled all-nighters, asked for extensions- but there just weren’t enough hours in the day. He couldn’t _go_ to school and _pay_ for school at the same time. Which meant his grades were below the cutoff.

He took a leave of absence.

_(He dropped out.)_

And, all the while, there was this pressure in his chest, and this voice in his head reminding him _that he can call his parents. They can help him, and everything will be okay._

Every time that option began to appeal to him, Ben clenched his jaw and pushed it away. God, no. They had given him enough. They’ve sacrificed enough. One day, he wouldn’t have them to rely on, and he needed to learn how to get by. This was _his_ problem and _he_ was gonna fix it.

He stayed with Nathan Hale, lying through his teeth every single time his mother called to ask how school was going. The more he ran, the more it all seemed to catch up to him, and now- here he was, back home. Back in the Heights.

And _how_ was he supposed to face his parents? His friends? Everybody on this block was his family, and he’d been lying to them for months. _What was he supposed to do?_

“Mijo,” Selah called out, leaning against the cart he was pushing around. “You look like hell.”

“I just got back.” Ben quipped.

“Yea, well, don’t let all the studying keep you down.” He advised, and Ben bit back a scoff. “Just relax. And breathe. Welcome back.”

He shot him a wink, before turning to a group of customers that had begun to crowd around the different flavors of _piragua_ that his cart offered.

Ben looked down at the floor, closing his eyes, and taking in air, slowly.

_Just breathe._

+

_Tallmadge’s_ had been a part of the barrio for as long as Caleb could remember. He’d spent countless summers there hiding from the heat (and sometimes the authorities), and he’d known ever since he was seven years old, that he’d work there one day. It’s not like owning a taxicab service was his one true aspiration, but it would make Nathaniel Tallmadge proud.

You know, _theoretically._

“It’s a good thing you learned how to tie that Windsor knot.” Nathaniel told him, eyeing his outfit; it felt weird as hell, but Caleb had gotten used to ironing his shirts before work. He didn't like it, he never had. “It’s a good thing I taught you. I don’t want to see _any_ drivers with crooked ties. This is a business, not a playground.”

“Yes, sir.” Caleb answered, hip leaning against the counter. Susannah popped up from the back room, pushing back her hair, and clutching a letter.

“ _Mira,_ it’s Uptown Investment Group.” She said, and Nathaniel rushed to read it over her shoulder.

“Another developer,” he said with distaste. “It isn’t an offer, Susie, it’s an _insult._ Forget about it, we’ll go to the bank on Monday.”

“We’re behind on all of these payments.” She reminded him, with thinly veiled panic. Caleb focused on cleaning the counter, doing his best to not intrude. “We need to go _now.”_

“I can’t go now, the dispatcher called out.”

_Well, so much for not intruding._

“Um, boss, I can cover the radio.” Caleb offered, trying to keep his cool. In his five years of working at the station, he’d never been allowed to get close to the microphone.

“ _You?”_ Nathaniel scrunched his nose, and Caleb tried to ignore the wave of annoyance that passed through him. “You don’t speak Spanish!”

“Oh, _come on_ , I’ve been with these drivers for half a decade!” He argued.

“You’re not Hispanic.”

At that, Susie pushed her husband’s hand off her shoulder, and gave him a chastising look.

“ _Oye,_ how much English did _you_ speak when you first moved here?” She asked, rhetorically. The question made Nathaniel squirm. “Caleb is honorary Latino.”

The owner of the station looked between his employee and his wife, exhaustedly, before reluctantly giving Caleb the microphone.

“Just get them from Point A to Point B- no funny business.” Nathaniel warned, as Susie dragged him out of the room.

“Check 1-2-3,” Caleb flipped on the microphone and tapped it couple of times, an easy smile spreading across his lips. “Yo, _atención,_ this is Brewster on the dispatch. Honk your horns!”

Although he had half a mind to start busting out a rhyme, he didn’t think Nathaniel would be particularly appreciative of that. Still, even if he was just sticking to his metaphorical script, being entrusted with something like this, after five years of waiting, was so goddamn satisfying.

“Okay, we’ve got traffic on the west side, and rush hour’s getting into full swing in all the usual places- you guys have lived here all your lives, you should know what to do with that,” he added, jokingly. “And, oh boy, Manny Rodriguez just happens to be in town. So anyone who wants to take the Deegan is kinda fucked, but other than that it's a pretty regular day and- _hold up a minute-”_

Caleb set down the microphone, looking up at Ben, who had walked in at some point while Caleb was talking, and currently watched his movements with his eyebrow raised, amusedly.

“Hey,” he said, with a small smirk.

“Tallboy!”

“In the flesh.” Ben responded, stepping forward to wrap his best friend in a tight hug. “How’re you?”

“Better now.” Caleb answered, with a suggestively teasing wink, and Ben shook his head, grinning fully.

“Well, I figured.” The two stayed like that for a moment, taking in the other’s appearance; it had been, what? A _full year_ since Ben had been last in the barrio? “Hey, have you seen my parents?”

“Off at the bank.” Caleb replied. “They’ll be back in a few. Must be excited to see them.”

“Yea, ecstatic.”

And maybe if it had been anybody else, they would have let the slight sarcasm go. But this was _Caleb_ , and if there was one thing that he didn’t need to go to university to know about, it was Ben. He picked up the microphone again, tearing his eyes away from the other boy.

“Alright, so we’ve got a special guest,” he said, and Ben’s head whipped upwards.

“Caleb, what are you-”

“Fresh from his first year at Yale,”

“ _Caleb, no-”_

“Give him a good ol’ welcome, because he’s lookin’ mad stressed-”

“You are unbelievable.” Ben shook his head, chuckling and making his way to Caleb’s side.

“Benjamin Tallmadge, the barrio’s best!” As they both wrestled over the microphone, laughing, acting like schoolchildren, everything seemed to set itself back into place. Caleb, mouth dry, managed to tug it closer to him. “Why don’t you look at that: _he’s smiling._ Say hello, Tallboy.”

“I’m being held hostage.” Ben whined jokingly, before straightening his spine. “But, yeah, I’m back.” He smiled, genuinely this time. “I’m home.”

“You’re home.” Caleb echoed, and Ben turned to face him. He seemed older, somehow- more inhibited, less naïve, and Caleb wondered how much both of them had changed, during all this time.

“I, uh- I better find my folks.” Ben said, pulling back and swallowing heavily. “Thanks for all of this. I missed you.”

“Ah, it was nothing.” Caleb answered, pushing the microphone away from him. He furrowed his brow as he watched Ben try and make his way out of the station. “You should stay here. With me.”

Ben paused, turning to look at him curiously.

“Y’know, it's getting hot outside. Don’t want that pretty face of yours getting sunburned.” He teased, and Ben shifted closer to him. “I’ll turn up the A/C. Just- stay here, Tallboy.”

Ben, seeming to make up his mind, sat down at one of the chairs that was near the dispatch. Caleb smiled softly.

_Always stay here with me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love these boyfriends i LOVE THEM also thanks for reading !!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You better find a way to meet in the middle, then. Because you’re running to make it home.”  
> “And?”  
> “And home is exactly where my brother’s running away from."

“Oye,” Abe called out, stepping in front of Samuel. “Your doctor called me; said you missed yet _another_ appointment.”

Samuel sighed, heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had had this conversation with nearly everybody in the barrio, but never more so than with his son and Abraham.

“Mijo, would _you_ take medical advice from somebody named Dr. Gross?” He pointed out, and sat down. Abe bit his lip, noticing how out of breath the older man was.

“Does his name really matter? ¡ _Es buena gente!”_ Abe argued, crouching down to Samuel’s level. “Listen, it’s all okay as long as you’re taking your medicine.”

Sam sighed, looking away. Abe’s face fell.

“You don’t understand,” the older man insisted. “Those pills may make my heart work better, but the headaches I’m given _son una atrocidad._ It isn’t worth it, spending all that money on some little pastillas. I’m strong as an ox.”

He swallowed, nodding; despite the fact that Abe was, quite possibly, one of the most irresponsible and careless people in the neighborhood, the idea that Samuel was being so blasé about his health conditions made him feel uneasy. He didn’t have time to harp upon it though, and was instead ripped from his reverie by someone pressing a frigid drink to his temple.

 _“¡Carajo!”_ He yelled, hand flying up to the spot where Sally had placed the beverage. “You’re terrible. And I’m putting that on your tab.”

“As long as _I_ don't have to pay for it,” Robert chimed in, standing next to his sister, a hand on her shoulder proudly. Abe gave them both a half-hearted glare, and stood up.

“Ice cold Country Club Cola Champagne.” Sally pushed the soda into his hand, eagerly. “Ask me who hooked it up?”

“I don’t _care_ who hooked it up, but it’s coming out of your paycheck.”

Samuel laughed, heartily, having regained his composure as he went over to where his children were and stood in the middle of them both.

“Abraham, I think they’re trying to tell you that Sally’s fixed the fridge.” He pointed out. Abe blinked, looking from the Townsends, to the Cola that his own fingers were wrapped around.

“Oh.” He said, simply. Rob snorted, grabbing the drink and popping it open.

“I need a raise: free sodas or I walk.” Sally conditioned, folding her arms resolutely. Abe rolled his eyes, snatching the Cola back from Robert, and taking a swig himself.

“Half-price. Diet.” He corrected. “Final offer.”

Sally deflated.

“Ain’t no Cubans be drinking _diet soda!”_ She argued, shaking her head, fiercely. “Rob, help me out here.”

The man in question merely gave them a disinterested look, and shrugged.

“Be glad you’re getting some kind of compensation. I don’t remember the last time I got a raise.”

“Maybe that’s because it’s never happened.” Abe offered, and Rob narrowed his eyes.

“It's not like you’re living in a mansion being waited on hand and foot, Woodhull.”

“I don’t know why you’re mad at _me-_ I’ve always given you all your coffee for free.” Abe pointed out. “Everyone else is happy to give me money, _so I get mine.”_

Rob tilted his head to the side, scrutinizing the other man.

“I don’t think that means what you think it means.”

Sally gave them both an annoyed look, rolling her eyes and reclaiming the soda can. As she walked back, the door to the salon burst open, a certain dark eyed hairdresser folding her arms.

“This isn’t social hours,” Anna shouted, from the other side of the street. “I need your _help_ , and here you are, lounging around with your boyfriend!”

“He is _not_ my boyfriend!” Rob yelled back, indignantly, and Abe rolled his eyes.

“Well, you don’t have to say it like _that.”_ He pointed out. Robert ignored him, trudging back to Anna’s side and half-heartedly waving goodbye to the shopkeeper.

“Okay. Ouch.” Abe said to himself, following Sally’s lead and heading back inside the bodega.

+

“Yes, I get my check on Monday. No, _no,_ don’t transfer me!”

Anna watched with sympathy and amusement as Robert lowered the phone, fuming. She shook her head, shared a look with Mary, and waited for the inevitable.

“Anna, I know I still owe you from last time-” _aquí vamos. “_ -and I didn’t throw away that money, I just gave it my mom and-”

“And what? She _drank_ it all away?”

“Listen, if I could maybe get my paycheck a little earlier I could just-”

“Mary, what’s my one rule?” Anna asked, turning to the blonde. “What do I _always_ tell him?”

“She’ll do anything for you.” Mary recited, inspecting her nails. “Everything _except_ support your mother’s malfunction.”

“ _Dysfunction.”_ Anna correct her, with a fond smile.

“My lights are going to be out all week.” Rob muttered, turning away from them. Mary’s lips quirked downwards and she glanced over to her girlfriend.

“Ay, come on.” She urged. “Poor boy. We need to help him- _what would Jesus do?”_

Anna scoffed, shaking her head.

“Honey, do I look like Jesus to you?” She pointed out, and Mary bit her lip. Anna sighed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Alright, it’s time to clear out all of this negative energy. Take a five minute break.”

Rob looked over his shoulder at the two women, suspiciously.

“What do you want?”

“Packing tape!” Anna clapped her hands together, and he sighed.

“Anything else while I’m at it?” Rob asked, sarcastically. “You know, just for kicks?”

“Well, now that you asked, I could go for a Pepsi.” Anna grinned at him in an ironically sweet way, as she passed him ten dollars. “Since you offered.”

Robert sighed, taking the money and turning on his heels. The girls’ chuckles had not receded even after he’d closed to the door. Irked, he raised his chin up towards the sky.

The heat was unbearable, as per usual. He raised his hand to block out the sun, squinting as he tried to make out the corner shop. One day, he wouldn't need to do any of this, he wouldn’t have to answer to Anna or Mary. The salon wasn’t _that_ bad, not really, but it wasn’t his best option, not by a long shot. _God,_ he was capable of so many things, if someone just bothered to notice.

It wasn’t his fault that he was broke. It wasn’t his fault that nobody seemed to give a fuck about immigrants.

And, yeah, that last point always stirred _something_ in him, but he pushed it back and focused on what he wanted- to get out of Washington Heights. He’d gotten so used to the elevated train passing by his window, so accustomed to the noise it always made, that his aspirations were to one day be _on_ it.

Out of the Heights, and into the big city.

His father had always supported this fervor inside of him; Robert was a very passive person, but when it came to his future he was clear about his wants. He supposed that his dad was just glad to see that his son actually _had_ wants.

(Maybe if he kept to himself less, people would stop doubting him.)

His mother… well, she was never lucid enough to input her opinion.

Realizing that he’d been standing out in the front step of the salon for the past two minutes, Robert groaned and shuffled over to the bodega, wiping away the beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead.

“Afternoon, Mister Townsend,” Abe greeted coyly, leaning against the counter. “If it isn’t the loveliest boy in the place.”

“You’ve got some dirt on your chin.” Rob replied, witheringly, and Sally snorted in the background. Abe faltered, wiping at his face aimlessly. With an over exaggerated sigh, he stepped forward and rubbed the grime off of the other man, himself.

“ _Honestly,_ what would you do without me?” He asked, with a shake of his head.

“Crash and burn.” Abe answered. “Another late night? Whoever you were with- they’ve got nothing on _these_ biceps: I bench press six gallons of milk and two cases of Goya beans.”

Rob, besides himself, cracked a grin.

“I was home. They shut off our power.” He explained, and next to them, he could see his sister grimace. “ _Again.”_

“Sorry, man.” Abe handed him a small cup.

“I didn’t order coffee.”

“You looked like you needed it.” He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s got a little bit of a cinnamon, just how you like it.”

“That’s just how my _abuela_ used to make it.” Rob mused, taking a sip.

“Ah, that’s what all the boys tell me, that I remind them of their grandma.” Abe said, before frowning at himself.

“Smooth,” Sally interjected. They ignored her. She pushed herself up onto the counter, grabbing Rob’s lapels and pulling him towards her. “My bro! Anything I can get ya?”

“A Pepsi and some packing tape.” Robert shifted to lean against one of the tables. Sally ducked behind the counter, pulling out the soft drink. Abe tossed her the packing tape, and she, in turn, went back over to her brother. Rob reached for the items.

“Thanks, I-”

“Not so fast.” Sally pulled her hands back, positioning the table in between her and Robert. “You see, my boss over there- the fella wearing the beanie in one hundred degree heat- has been meaning to ask you...”

Rob’s eyes flicked over to Abraham.

“Yes?”

“...what someone, such as yourself, would be doing tonight.” Sally finished, and Robert folded his arms, contemplating the question.

“Depends.” He answered, with a shrug. “Does your boss dance?”

In the background, Abe paled slightly.

“Like a drunk _Chita Rivera.”_ Sal finished, clapping her hands together and waggling her eyebrows. “How about it?”

“After Ben’s dinner, we can- I don’t know- hit a few clubs,” he said, twisting away from his sister to face Abe. “And check out the fireworks.” He added, before stepping out of the store.

“Holy shit.” Abe breathed. _“Holy shit.”_

“I can’t believe you need to use a teenage girl to get a date.” Sally rolled her eyes, exasperatedly. “Don’t tell Caleb, he’ll eat you alive.”

“Stop talking. Stop moving.” Abe demanded, head resting on his arms. “This is the greatest day of my life.”

“That’s…. a little sad.”

“Literally, though, _what a way to begin the weekend.”_ He said, grinning. “Sal, forget half off Colas- anything you want is free.”

“Hell yeah!” She shouted triumphantly, sliding up to the shelves stuffed with candy. “Damn, this is the greatest day of _my_ life, too.”

“I think it should be mentioned in the history books.” Abe provided. “It’s tied with the day when I finally make it back to D.R.”

Sally gave an impressed whistle.

“You really like him, then, don’t you?” She said, jabbing him in the gut, playfully.

“Yeah, _a little.”_

She nodded, placing her elbow on the counter and raising an eyebrow.

“You better find a way to meet in the middle, then. Because you’re running to make it home.”

Abe looked up, giving her a confused look; yeah, he wanted to get back to the Dominican Republic- it was where he was born, and he was determined to relive all those memories that his parents used to gush about.

“And?”

“And home is exactly where my brother’s running _away_ from.”

Abe chewed on his lower lip, settling himself in one of the chairs. Yes, Sally had a point (as per usual). But that was probably the great thing in speculating about the _future_ \- you still had the present. And, right now, his reality contained a date with Rob Townsend, which was good enough for him.

Ben had already found Yale, Caleb had the dispatch, Rob would find his corner of the world, and Abe would find D.R. Somehow, everything would turn out okay, in the end.

“You better start getting ready for the dinner.” Sally advised, shutting the doors. “I’ll close up.”

“Thanks, Sal.” Abe said, shooting her a smile as he stalked off to his apartment.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” She chuckled. “And hurry up, you don’t have all the time in the world!”

She was right. It wouldn’t be long now.

_Any day._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so shoutout to lily, my favorite encyclopedia, for telling me abt rob's mom!! n also thanks for reading!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I-I lost my scholarship.” He said, wanting to get the news out so quickly, that his tongue tripped over the words.

“Woah, okay, hold up,” Caleb furrowed his eyebrows in concentration. “A lil’ slower. Um…. _¿donde estás?”_ He said, and the words felt clumsy and foreign. “Oh my god, _uno momento._ Yo, _cabron,_ I am trying to help you!”

Next to him, Ben gave him a surprised look, stifling a chuckle.

“Whoever taught you Spanish needs to wash their mouth out with soap.” He teased, and Caleb glanced at him tiredly.

“It was the drivers, the dirty bastards.” He answered, and Ben nodded, sympathetically. In one swift move, he took the phone himself and pressed it to his ear, listening intently.

_“Si, dime. Ah. Claro, claro.”_ He brought the phone to his shoulder, turning to Caleb. “Poor guy’s tryna get to Cloisters, but he’s stuck on the Hudson.”

Caleb snapped his fingers, relaxing slightly.

“Tell him to get off at exit fourteen.” He advised, but Ben shot him a dubious look.

“Isn’t the u-turn off of exit _fifteen_ quicker?”

“Well, yeah,” Caleb concurred, raising an eyebrow. “But it’s also _illegal.”_

Ben looked from the phone, to Caleb, and back, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“..... _Haga una media vuelta cuando llegues a la salida quince, y sigue hacia la derecha…”_

Caleb folded his arms, frowning and trying to decipher the rapid fire exchange; although, he didn’t need to know Spanish to tell what Ben had done.

“You gave him your directions, didn’t you?”

Ben merely set the phone down, blew a strand of hair away from his forehead, and shot Caleb an overly chipper smile, which the other boy just had to return.

“Eyes on the dispatch, _por favor.”_

The two sprung apart, and Caleb felt his face heat up as he went and locked eyes with a suspicious Nathaniel. The man’s wary gaze dissipated however, once he looked over to where his son stood.

“Benjamin,” he smiled, pulling him into a tight hug. “Ay, mijo, you look so handsome- and twice as smart!”

“Must be these bags under my eyes.” Ben quipped, and behind them Caleb snorted.

“I don’t see any bags; I just see my little boy, all grown up.” Nathaniel stated, dramatically wiping a nonexistent tear from his clear blue eyes. “Oh, here come the waterworks.”

Susie, appearing at the door and rifling through the contents of her purse, nearly dropped every last thing that she was holding, the moment she saw Ben.

“Ay, mi niño, come to mami.” She demanded, opening her arms wide. Ben ducked his head, abashedly, but made his way towards his mother, nonetheless. The three of them were wrapped in what Caleb would later call a _Tallmadge Pretzel,_ once he recounted the story to Abe.

“Mamá,” Ben said, biting his lip. “I was hoping we could maybe grab some coffee, go home for a few hours….?”

“Nonsense!” Susie clapped her hands together, curly hair bouncing as she raised her head to look her son in the eye. “¡ _Estamos celebrando!”_

“Mom-”

“They’re still serving breakfast!” She added, excitedly.

“I ate at abuelo’s house.” Ben justified, desperately.

“So what? Samuel needs to learn that _I’m_ the only one who can fatten you up.” Susie teased, pinching his stomach playfully. “Chin up, papi, we’re gonna have a great time.”

“Yes, and everybody wants to see you, so we’re stopping by _Anna’s.”_ Nathaniel interjected. “You’re the talk of the town and-”

“You guys, _just stop.”_ Ben pleaded, pulling out of his parents’ grasp. Silence fell across the room, as Susannah and Nathaniel exchanged worried looks. Caleb coughed, awkwardly. “Alright, okay, so I planned this entire speech on the plane: if only you could let me get it out.”

“Caleb, can you give us a minute?” Nathaniel asked, and the man in question nodded.

“Of course.” He answered, stepping across the room and towards the door, before calling out over his shoulder; “Tallboy, if there’s anything I can do-”

“ _Go.”_ Nathaniel repeated, and Ben shot his best friend a sympathetic look. Caleb squared his jaw before walking out. “Benjamin, what is this about?”

Ben closed his eyes, turning away from his mom and dad, slowly.

“¿Mijo?” Susie asked, quietly. Ben took a staggering sigh, trying to regulate his already quickening breathing.

“I-I lost my scholarship.” He said, wanting to get the news out so quickly, that his tongue tripped over the words. His parents stood in stunned silence.

“Did you get into some kind of trouble, or something?” Susie questioned, but Ben shook his head. “Well, then, it’s okay. Just tell us what happened.”

Ben ran a hand through his hair, the band that had been holding it in place having fallen off hours ago.

“It was my grades. I wasn’t doing too well, academically. I was below the cutoff, so they put me on probation.” He explained, nervously twisting to face the other two again. “After midterms…. after midterms they called me into the Dean’s office, and told me that they had to revoke my scholarship.”

Nathaniel shook his head, disbelievingly.

“But you were studying nonstop!”

Ben let out a wry laugh, something that he was certain wasn’t appreciated by his parents.

“Actually, dad, I didn’t have time to study because I was working to pay for the books that I never even got to open.” He told him. “Ironic, isn’t it? Either way, it doesn’t matter, because I ended up taking.. a leave of absence.”

Susie gave him a stern look.

“I think the words you’re looking for are _dropped out.”_ She corrected, placing her hands on her hips. Ben sighed; he _hated_ that phrase.

“Yes, I guess you could say that I left school.”

“What?!” Nathaniel yelled, at the same time that Susie barked out a “When?!”

Ben winced.

“Guys, I honestly didn’t know what to do, and-”

“ _When?”_ His mother demanded, tapping her foot for emphasis.

“...March…” He answered truthfully, licking his lips and waiting for the inevitable blowout. His mother’s expression shifted from surprise, into hurt, and it was the latter that really made Ben wish for the earth to swallow him whole. Nathaniel, in the background, was oddly silent.

“Four months ago.” Susie clarified. There was something about his mother when she was angry; while his father was rage and anger and passion, Susannah was calm. Serene, almost. Fucking scary, as well. Ben hated making her mad, because he never could quite tell her stance on a subject- how were you supposed to judge the calm hidden behind the storm?

“So what have you been doing since then?” Nathaniel interrupted, stepping to stand right between his wife and his son.

“I didn’t have anywhere to go, and I needed to figure out how to tell you before I returned.” Ben said, meekly. “I stayed on a friend’s couch.”

“Like a beggar?!” Nathaniel shouted, red in the face. Susie placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back, reining him in. She raised her gaze to meet her son’s.

“You lied to me.” She said, accusingly. “Every single time that I called and asked how you were doing, you were _lying._ Me mentiste completamente.”

“I’m sorry, okay, I just didn’t want to hurt you!” He told her, although he knew that them finding out this way, four months too late, was breaking her heart even more. “I couldn’t work two jobs and study for finals- I _tried, I did,_ pero es imposible. It was expensive, and the scholarship? It didn’t cover all that I owed, in the first place.”

“Well, then, that's easy: you pick up a phone and you call home.” Nathaniel offered, sardonically. “You say, _‘papi, I need some money.’_ What, did you think we would be stingy?”

“Papá, you’ve already laid off two drivers this year, because you couldn’t pay their salary.” Ben pointed out, but Nathaniel shook his head.

“Listen, we would have found a way.”

“You don’t get it!” Ben snapped. “It’s not just ‘oh, look, there goes Ben Tallmadge, he’s sure to get an a plus in every single assignment, and he won’t have any trouble, he never does!’ It’s _hard,_ and it’s _stressful,_ and it doesn’t help at all that everybody in this stupid barrio seems to think that I’m perfectly okay with carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders, and passing it off like it’s nothing! You don’t know what college is like!”

“Bueno, then, _edúcame, por favor.”_ Nathaniel replied, icily. There was a beat of silence, in which they all just fumed quietly, before Susie inhaled copious quantities of air, in an attempt to regain control.

“You know what?” She said, lowering her voice back down to a normal level. “I am going to go

get started on dinner.”

“No, mom, cancel tonight.” Ben told her, instead. Susie’s eyes sharpened.

“ _You_ be home in one hour.” She insisted. “Everybody wants to see you, and I’m not going to deny them over this _estupidez.”_

She left the room, leaving Nathaniel and Ben alone.. The latter sighed, heavily, and turned to follow his mother out. The former gave him a hard look.

“Why didn’t you just call us? We could have helped.” Nathaniel asked, wanting, _needing,_ to understand. Ben scoffed.

“Tell me,” he folded his arms, turning to look his dad square in the eye. “What could _you_ have done?”

Nathaniel watched as his only son stalked off into the streets, the feeling of helplessness, of _uselessness,_ growing bigger and bigger with each passing moment.

This couldn’t be happening. Not to him. Not to Ben. That boy needed to go back to Yale- it was his _destiny._ Back as a child, he had always studied and read, doing his best to grow, to learn. He’d worked harder than Nathaniel ever had in his life.

And, now, the one time that his son truly needed him was finally here, and he was completely and utterly _inútil. Useless._

Honestly, it was fitting. His father used to call him that, whenever he talked about getting out of Puerto Rico. So Nathaniel, in turn, had donned the late James Tallmadge useless as well. It seemed to be a recurring theme amongst the men in his family.

He wasn’t letting that happen to Ben. He and Susannah had sacrificed too much to watch him give up now. No, he was gonna fix this. He was gonna make it right. And then nobody would ever be able to call him useless ever again. He was going to help his family. He was going to find a way to raise enough money to send his son back to college.

_In fact,_ he thought, as he eyed the rusty sign on the door, the one that bore the name of his dispatch, _I already know how to do just that._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is bad n short n i'm apologetic but thanks for reading anyways!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “C’mon! Tell me something I don’t know.”

At first glance, the salon seemed to have been replaced with a completely different store; however, the boxes that surrounded the entire vicinity weren’t there because someone was moving _in,_ rather because Anna and Mary were moving _out._

Everybody was going to be mourning the loss of the two best hairstylists in the barrio, but they all knew that they could take a train or a cab to the Bronx whenever, and it wasn’t happening for a few days, either way. Most of the people in the barrio seemed to be in denial, desperately clinging to normalcy, and ironically enough, the ones who were actually leaving for good didn’t seem to be exempt from this pattern. Anna, who had been crouching over a basket, stood up.

“You guys know me, I don’t like to talk about anyone,” she began, a look of utmost sincerity on her face as she pulled her hair up into a bun. Next to her, Robert scoffed. “Pero, _oye esto.”_

None of the parties present were particularly surprised at the turn in conversation; Anna Strong _thrived_ off of the secrets that living in a tight-knit community often provided, as well as unveiled.

“Annie, don’t!” Mary chastised, curls bouncing. “My pastor told me that gossiping is a sin.”

Anna and Rob shared a look, the latter stifling a chuckle. The brunette, in turn, placed an arm around her girlfriend and kissed her cheek gently.

“Jesus, perdóname.” She said, dryly, and Mary shook her head, grinning. “ _Pero_ here’s the thing; Peggy went behind my back for a ten dollar haircut, and guess what she found in her extensions?”

“What?” Mary asked, having apparently forgotten her previous pact with the Lord.

“ _Una cucaracha-_ a cockroach. One of the big ones, with wings.” Anna divulged, sending a shiver through the others’ spines. Rob scrunched his nose, pulling away from the group to drop a half-used bottle of gel inside one of the boxes.

“I don’t get why you care for all that gossip,” he told her, in a reproaching fashion. “It’s an invasion of privacy.”

“ _Ay,_ no es nada.” Anna assured him. “It’s all in good fun, of course. We’re a family.”

“Oh, is _that_ why you paid Abby to mess up that poor girl’s hair?” Rob countered, ironically, and Anna squirmed. “For familial reasons?”

“ _Mira, mijo,_ family entails loyalty.” She told him, pointing a hair curler at him threateningly. “You stick with _my_ business-”

“Our business!” Mary chirped.

“-yes, exactly, you stick with _our_ business, and nothing bad will happen to you.”

Rob raised his eyebrow.

“That sounds less like a hair salon and more like the mafia.” He pointed out, wryly, but the girls paid him no mind, too busy crowding around an old photograph that they had taken last New Year’s; one of Anna, Mary, and basically the rest of the barrio, celebrating and laughing and drinking.

“We can leave this out until the last day.” Mary suggested, and Anna nodded, lip quivering slightly.

“I like that idea.”

Rob frowned. The idea of his superiors (his _friends)_ leaving made him feel a myriad of different emotions; there was melancholia, due to them not being in the barrio, and there was envy, _due to them not being in the barrio._ Anna and Mary were finally about to get _out_ of the Heights, which is what he’d been wanting since he’d gotten to this damn place.

“Shit, what did you guys _do_ to this place?” Ben said, as a way of greeting. Pulled out of his reverie, Rob looked over at the college student, breaking out into a smile.

“ _¡Entra, mijo!”_ Anna yelled, pulling Ben into a tight hug. Mary grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down to her level, inspecting his hair.

“Oh, honey, you need some desperate help.” She told him, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. Ben barked out a laugh, kissing their cheeks.

“Well look who’s back.” Robert awkwardly punched the other boy’s shoulder. “Did you kick some college ass?”

“Actually, I got mine handed to me.” Ben corrected. “And I’ve been trying to get a hold of you and Abe the entire day.

“I got my phone confiscated.” Rob explained, apologetically. “And Abraham _never_ has his phone on, he’s the worst.”

Ben laughed, nervously eyeing the ecstatic women.

“Do you guys mind if I steal Robert, for a moment?” He asked. The man in question furrowed his brow, curiously. Hell, if he had it his way, Ben could stuff him inside a suitcase and take him back to Yale with him, come fall.

“¿Ah, sí?And what are we? _Chopped chuletas?”_ Anna smacked his shoulder. “We’ve got to fix you up while this place is still running: _siéntate.”_

Ben concurred, situating himself in one of the chairs that hadn’t been covered in bubble wrap yet. He normally hated his appointments at the salon, but there was something vaguely familiar about Anna and Mary forcing him into a haircut, so he didn’t particularly mind.

“So the salon’s movin’ to the Bronx, then?” Ben asked, recalling a day in which Mary had called him yelling about the imminent move. He couldn’t tell whether she was excited or terrified- Mary Smith was a force to be reckoned with, so he didn’t think asking for a distinction would be wise.

“Yep!” The strawberry blonde assured him, grabbing a pair of scissors from the counter. “Out of the Heights, and into the ‘Hood.”

“Is that better or worse?” Rob chimed in.

“Time will tell,” Anna shrugged, taking a lock of Ben’s hair and examining it. “I mean, as long as I have Mary with me, everything will be okay.”

Mary beamed at her, pleased.

“ _Te quiero,”_ she said, with a crooked grin, before turning back to Ben and his dilemma. “And, oh my god, you _need_ to accept hair gel into your life.”

“Ew, no, it makes my hair all crunchy.” Ben shook his head, and Mary and Anna sighed simultaneously.

“How are we supposed to make you look handsome, if you won’t cooperate!” Anna set down the brush, glaring playfully at the boy.

“If something isn’t broken, don’t fix it.” Ben replied, smugly, and Rob snorted.

“ _Dale, viejo,_ just let ‘em help you.” He urged, and Ben slid down onto the chair, shaking his head.

“Just a little off the top!” Mary promised.

“And a little of the side.”

“How about you tell me a little bit of news you’ve heard around the barrio, instead.” Ben compromised, switching tactics; Anna could hardly ever resist from spilling her knowledge. “C’mon! Tell me something I don’t know.”

Anna and Mary shared a look, the former letting a devious smirk worm its way onto her painted lips.

“Bueno, you didn’t hear it from _me,”_ Anna began, and they all turned to her in anticipation. “But I heard that Abraham had sex with Peggy Shippen.”

“¡No me diga!”

“Oh, please,” Rob shook his head, more out of shock than anything. “He’d never go out with somebody like _that,_ they aren’t right for each other _at all!”_

“Oye, I’m not saying they’re getting married, just that they had quite the night.” Anna shrugged, smirking.

“Tell me you’re joking.” Rob demanded, folding his arms. Ben and Mary, who both seemed increasingly interested in the conversation, leaned forwards.

“Ugh, fine.” The brunette slumped her shoulder, although her tone was still light and teasing. “Honestly, I just wanted to hear what you’d say.”

“Jesus, it’s not like I care.” Rob amended, faltering slights as the others watched him with disbelief. “I just…. support honesty above all.”

_“¡Ay, bendito!”_

The others broke out into laughter, and Robert self-consciously turned his back on them all, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“So, Ben, I hear you and Caleb have been catching up.” Anna waggled her eyebrows, and the boy’s face flushed slightly.

“Oh, yeah? What do you hear?”

“Plenty.” She assured him. “I mean, they say he’s got quite a big-”

“- _hey!”_

“-taxi!” Anna finished, placing her hands on her hips. “What did you _think_ I was gonna say?”

Ben squared his jaw, glaring at them both. Mary, leaning against one of the taller boxes, tilted her head to the side, a puzzled look present on her delicate features.

“I don’t think I know what you mean..” She confessed, and Anna barked out a laugh as she bumped shoulders with a very embarassed Ben.

“It doesn’t matter what she meant.” He coughed, awkwardly. “Because it was wholly irrelevant to the conversation, anyways.”

“Leave him be, Annie,” Rob decided, with a shake of his head. “He’s far too ace for this conversation.”

“I envy Mary.” Ben quipped, and the woman in question, who was still very much confused, merely squinted at her girlfriend.

“I don’t get it- what do _taxis_ have in common with _sex?”_ She demanded, and Ben moaned with agony at her bluntness. Robert stifled a laugh, finally turning back to the group. He felt bad for the other man, but at least the subject had deviated from _him._ Not that it was ever technically about him in the first place. God, he needed a drink.

“It was an analogy, querida.”

“For what? I mean, as long as he keeps his taxi clean-”

“Okay, no, stop talking.” Ben said, and Anna nodded fervently, trying to keep the corners of her mouth down. Mary sighed, and slumped back down, leaving the question be; it was better if she didn’t know, in Rob’s opinion. None of the others would ever be able to unsee _that_ image.

“Alright, we’ve tortured the boy enough.” Anna decided. “But, Ben, seriously- all of us down here knew that you would be the one to make it out.”

Ben looked up, surprisedly.

“I bet you impressed all of your teachers, as well.” Rob chimed in, surely. “I mean you were always the best down here.”

“We’re gonna need front row tickets to your graduation.” Mary decided, placing her hands on Ben’s shoulders. “I can picture it now: _Benjamin Tallmadge, class of 2019.”_

As their excited chatter grew louder, and their expectations more elaborate, Ben could feel beads of sweat begin to form along the lines of his forehead- it could easily be blamed on the heat, claro, pero something about his tumultuous stomach suggested otherwise.

“Guys,” he chimed, in clearing his throat awkwardly. They all paused mid-sentence and turned to look at him. “....I dropped out.”

He never really thought he’d see the day in which Anna and Mary were so shocked by a piece of news, that they didn’t even react at all. There were no squeals and no swearing, just a couple of exchanged troubled glances, and a questioning eyebrow from one Rob Townsend.

“No me diga.” Anna finally said, chopping through the awkward quiet that had settled across the room.

“I-I should go.” Ben suggested, standing up and shooting his friends a small abashed smile. He could feel their eyes piercing his back, even after he’d walked out the door.

“That boy? He’s never quit anything” Mary finally said.

“Ese tío never even got a B!” Anna added, indignantly, as she shook her head from side to side. Rob squinted.

“He got a C in gym once, actually.” He divulged, with a blasé shrug of his shoulders. “It took me hours to talk him off of the fire escape.”

“Maybe the pressure cooker just couldn’t take it,” Anna mused, tapping a brush against her chin. “Maybe his lid just went… pah!”

“Pah?” Echoed Mary, dubiously. Anna gave her girlfriend a very somber nod.

“Pah.”

“What the hell even happened?” Rob demanded, folding his arms. He’d known the college student- _former college student-_ all his life, and Ben Tallmadge wasn’t the kind of person to just up and quit.

Anna frowned, brown hair swishing to one side as she turned to face the window.

“I…. don’t know.” She admitted, and Mary gave her an anxious look. “And that’s not something I say often.”

“Or ever.” Rob muttered, rolling his eyes, although his curiosity really was getting the best of him. “We should ask what happened.”

“Mijo, _you_ should ask what happened.” Mary corrected, placing a hand around the slightly taller brunette, who stood next to her, still befuddled. “He’s been wanting to talk to _you_ , since the moment he came in- ¿o es que no te acuerdas?”

Rob bit his lip, turning over the concept in his mind; he wanted to know what was wrong with Ben, and he wanted to find someway to help. Yet, at the same time, he had trouble believing that any of this would come easily or naturally. Maybe if his mind would stop trying to make everything more complicated than it already was, he might get somewhere, but alas.

“Right. Right, okay, I’ll see what I can find out, I guess.” He decided, and the other two beamed.

“You better report back to us, soldier.”

“Or what?” Rob chuckled, dryly. “You’ll sic the dogs on me?”

“No, not the dogs.” Anna assured him, stepping closer, looking threatening with her sharp eyeliner and a stable hand on her hip. “But I hear Sally would do anything for powdered donuts.”

“....duly noted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took me A While, i apologize

**Author's Note:**

> me: listens to a musical abt latinx immigrants  
> me: yes this is abt revolutionary spies
> 
> aaaa thank u so much for reading this far!! i would translate all the spanish words, but it's literally one am n how hard is it to look up google translate i mean seriously
> 
> n also thanks to washingtonspies/schuylerelizas on tumblr for literally not letting me forget this ever, n also for being rlly awesome n talking to me abt this trash like u are Very Cool
> 
> also ciphereye was super supportive ?? thank u what the heck ur Rad <3


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